Darwell Circular – 9.4 miles

  Today we would be filling in another gap in our map, amongst the countryside to the west of Robertsbridge. This walk was also significant for the debut of our new walking bag, as gifted to us by my Mum and Dad! We set off later than normal, leaving the car park at Darwell Wood just after midday. As we made our way through the trees, we were pleased to find that the morning’s sunshine and blue skies seemed to be staying into the afternoon.

  The woods were full of bees and other buzzing insects, and the paths were quite muddy in places, but overall pretty good. As the path meandered toward the reservoir’s edge, we were surprised to find a good spattering of early-rising bluebells, followed by a large grove of wild garlic leaves. We bravely forged a little gurgling stream where Beth washed the mud from her boots and then ascended through the remainder of the sunny woods. As we emerged back into the open, the bright world ahead shimmered with heat, and a wider view of the reservoir appeared on our left. After a few more fields, I was hot enough to remove a layer – a sure sign of the change in season! We also swapped the bag over at this point, and as we set off, Beth said “You never know what’s around the corner.” Seconds later, we spotted a large herd of deer relaxing in an open, sun-drenched field. We crept forward as quietly as we could, but it was not long before we were spotted. We stopped and watched as the word spread amongst the hundred-strong herd, and they slowly rose to their hooves and disappeared away down toward the water. This was an expert choice of spot by the deer, with fantastic views and an excellent tree for company. We continued across the farmland, with regular splashes of spring growth and colour, eventually arriving at a long driveway, taking us back to the road – we had been going for about an hour and a half, and this would be our first bit of road walking; not bad!

  This road was nice and quiet. More significantly, however, as we looked at the wild garlic leaves along its edge, we spotted a bud which had opened to reveal its distinctive white flower – the first of the season, and very early! The lane rose and took us around the north-east corner of the reservoir, where Beth picked up a small bug hitchhiker. Initially, she tried discussing whether he actually wanted to come with her, but he seemed to have made up his mind, choosing to remain on her top. Eventually, he settled on her shoulder, and they seemed quite happy. The pair enjoyed a lovely time together, making lots of memories, before the bug eventually departed a few minutes later; this made Beth sad. This was however, where the road ended and the footpaths recommenced. We headed steadily upward, spotting a heron sitting at the top of the tree (which seemed very out of place), and met a couple of curious horses who came over to say hello as we walked up beside their paddock. Once at the top of their long fenceline, we found a likely looking tree in front of us. We were more or less halfway, so stopped beneath for lunch. The sun was still out, the two horses plodded up to enjoy nibbling their grass just a little down from us, and we spotted the steam coming from the railway in the distance.

  After lunch, we entered the woodland behind, to find that once again we had managed to stop to eat just before a stretch of uphill walking – classic us! We again spotted stretches of green dotted with blue amongst the trees, promising thick carpets in a few weeks. After the woods was another quick spell of road walking, where we descended back toward the next stretch of farm. As we passed the first flock, they collectively wandered over to the gate when they saw us. We then walked down a second sheep field to cross a bridge over an idyllic little meander in the stream at the bottom, where we found yet more woollies. As we crossed, I wondered if the sheep ever used the bridge. We passed them by, and once again, the sheep showed an unusually forward interest in our presence. It was here that I suddenly realised that they must be hand-fed by their farmer; they saw us, and expected us to have something for them. I called them over like I would call the goats, and the whole flock began to move our way. They got very close too, before they slowly decided that I was in fact not their farmer. One by one, they slunk away in the direction of the stream. We then got our answer: yes, the sheep do use the bridge! They also just walk through the stream, so I guess it depends on the individual sheep and the bridge’s availability at the time.

  Leaving the sheep behind, we found ourselves amongst the grounds of a very fancy house, in a well-kept garden, dotted with sculptures. There was further farmland at the end of this, where we came across a field of cows. There were four mothers, and about six calves. What was interesting about these guys was that three of the mums were off grazing, and the remaining cow was resting at the edge of the field with the calves. She was clearly keeping an eye on young that weren’t hers, and I have never seen this kind of “nanny” behaviour amongst cows before – very cool!

  The track continued to wind its way through trees and farmland, slowly but steadily going uphill. It was around this point that we both began to feel the first pangs of tiredness of the day, and we still had a fair distance to go. The next footpath took us around the edge of a slightly unkempt horse field, beside another one containing llamas and sheep. The plotted route was a bit off here (actually, it had been a few times by this point) and we went back and forward trying to look for some kind of stile which would allow us in the alleged direction of the footpath. Concluding that the best we could do was hop the fence at the end of the field and rejoin the path a few meters further up, I made my way over the small bit of thorny fence beside the metal five-bar gate. Just as I climbed down the other side, a lady leading her pony appeared, and I took the opportunity to ask her to point us toward the footpath; she confirmed that we were on it, and that the map was just rubbish. With her blessing, Beth then opened the gate to the field and joined me on the other side, avoiding the awkward clamber.

  We climbed up toward the small village of Brightling, the afternoon began to feel quite late. Emerging amongst sand-coloured buildings, we suddenly felt as if we had somehow walked all the way to the Cotswolds – we also spotted a strange pyramid structure in the churchyard. As quickly as we entered, we found ourselves leaving, passing an old dog standing at a cottage gate watching the world go by. The countryside swept away ahead, and as we walked through we could finally see the forest which had started the day before us, entering the last mile or so. We also came across an unexpected structure on the hillside, which turned out to be “The Hermit’s Tower”. After some research, Beth was able to inform me that it had been created by “Mad Jack Fuller”, who turned out to be buried in the pyramid we had passed earlier. Amongst other things during his life, Jack was also responsible for saving Bodiam Castle from destruction, to be used for building material. This would have been a tragic waste, and for Jack’s actions, I am very grateful.

  Across from the tower, we began to make our way through the final farm of the day. This began with a large field of sheep, and as I looked across the flock, I spotted one that was clearly stuck on its back, long legs kicking desperately in the air, to no avail. Being the countryside hero, I hoped the barbed-wire fence and made my way over. Her friends scattered as I drew near, and she seemed to have given up the fight, not even kicking. She was truly stuck and looked very sad about it too. I grabbed her wool and rolled her over. I knew she would run away fast, but boy, did she shoot off! I very much hope that she goes on to have some delightful lambs in the coming days.

  Back on the track, and a pheasant came bursting from the trees, followed closely by a spaniel in hot pursuit. Fortunately for the pheasant, after finding himself in more open space, he was able to fly off and get away. The spaniel eventually realised that the chase was beyond him, and turned back around, finally responding to the shouts of his owner, somewhere out of sight.  There was also a barn full of young cows just off to our right, so we plodded up to say hello. They too cautiously approached for a sniff. After this, we finally found ourselves reentering the stretch of trees that would lead us back to the car, and some more slightly muddy forest track, there it was ahead, and we were very grateful to see it.

  We very much enjoyed the route, which offered a lot of distance without the need for much road walking, along with plenty of variation along the way. However, we also found it much tougher than we thought we would. It was a decent distance, and the footpath was pretty much constantly undulating; we are now home and are both tired and satisfyingly achy. Our new bag was also a success; it was very comfortable – in fact, my shoulder didn’t ache at all – and nice and compact, which helped keep the centre of gravity close and us balanced as we navigated the countryside.